One kender too many
by Preston Gilstrap
Summary: This is just something that came from the 8th precident of my mind.....


This would be my first and quickest story ever typed due to several idiot black hats who have at least some clue as to what they are doing but that is a story for another time! I would appreciate feedback of any kind. The only things I want to say beforehand are…. The internet is for porn! Listen to the song and you will agree with me I swear! I want to say that and the fact that all or at least most of my stories are written based on throwing just about every fantasy book together so don't burn a cross outside of my house if something Is inaccurate! My spell check has had multiple viral issues so it sucks as well...

Fakin was an average necromancer who was shunned by all and accepted by none. He was small, frail, and constantly plagued by kender who thought of his spell components as edible. He was always plagued by one kinder in particular, (drum roll please) Tasslehoff Burfoot. It was a warm summer's day and Fakin was on his last wit with the kender. He would have slain the kender but he was pretty sure that hell would hand him the kender back because they got sick of him.

Fakin had tried many things to still the kender's mouth but the only things that had any success were short spells and often dangerous magical artifacts. One such artifact was a ring that he had won off of a hobbit that had been reluctant to part with it and had good reason.

The ring had no apparent effect on the kender other than invisibility and at the moment, Fakin had dearly regretted giving the ring to the kender. "God, why me?" he thought to himself, trying to ignore the pokes at his ribcage. The kender had taken to stealing his staff and poking him with it so naturally Fakin was completely suicidal. The only thing that kept his grip on sanity was the dim hope that Fakin would lose the kender to some random butterfly that might wander in front of the him.

"Hey Fakin, look at me; I'm invisible! Well, I guess you can't look at me because I'm invisible but it's….." The kender rambled on, oblivious to the world around him.

Fakin had finally had enough and started to yell but had an idea that might actually work on the kender. Being a necromancer, he had several animated corpses armed with swords and bows at his disposal so he did what anyone would do after seven days on the road with a kender. He bound tasslehoff to his staff and gagged him with a cloth. He had two skeletal figures carry one end of the staff each and set off with a renewed vigor.

He stared off into the distance at the setting sun before entering a roadside tavern and ordering some ale. He let the kender off of the staff and paid another drink before relaxing and letting the conversation wash over him. His ears perked at one conversation in particular though….

"They say war is sweeping over the eastern kingdoms" One man said. "Soon it will be in our region and well have to fight, eh?" He stopped a barmaid and ordered another drink before continuing. "Orcs and undead compose this army they say so It'd be a wonder if we survived that encounter…."

Fakin stopped listening and put his head in his hands, thinking to himself "This day just keeps getting better and better…." Being a mage, he would likely be called off to fight if the rumor proved true. Clerics and mages were always in demand when war broke out so he had one of two options: be a man and fight for his people or hide in the woods until things died down. Mages would certainly scry him out and force him to fight if he hid and he would probably die fighting so Fakin did what he normally did in times of great stress. He ordered ale and focused on something less grim and urgent.

'I could hide with Icilowan.',he thought. Icilowan being the a great dragon who lived in the mountains that Fakin had saved. He thought about the encounter...

'The stench of blood was heavy in the air and charred remains were strewn about as Fakin walked up to the dying dragon. He offered to bring the dragon back from the brink of death for a favor. A favor being an alliance of course.'

Now seemed like to perfect time to take advantage of that alliance. Who would suspect him to be hiding with a dragon? Even if the conclave did scry him out, they certainly would'nt take the time to retrieve him from Icilowan. He could even feed, er...introduce the kender...

On that cheerful note, Faking filled his flask and set out for the skullcap mountains.

((If any of you recognize the name, 'Icilowan' leave feedback saying that you do! I just want to know that I'm not alone...))


End file.
